


Take My Breath Away

by vampireisthenewblack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Flash Fic, M/M, Masturbation, erotic asphyxiation, mating games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 18:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireisthenewblack/pseuds/vampireisthenewblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm keeping you alive," Derek says. He takes the rope, pulls it through a closed fist. "Do you trust me?"</p><p>[<strong>#29</strong> in Challenge #3: <em>The Non-Penetration Challenge</em> of Mating Games Round 2]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> This was #29 of Group B, Challenge #3, Mating Games Round 2. AND [IT WON SECOND PLACE](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/19088.html)! /me flails

There's static at first. Noise that fills his head as he's rocked back and forth, up and down.

There's a voice, raised in anger. "Damn it, Stiles, _breathe_."

He gasps. It hurts. Light flashes as his eyelids flutter open. It hurts too, so he closes them. He sucks in another breath, reaches for his throat to ease the pain. A sheet has been laid over him. It sticks to his belly, wet with semen.

"Awkward," he rasps. He opens his eyes again, squints at the glow of his lamp, registers Derek's blurry shape above him.

"You can't do that," Derek says. "Ever again."

Stiles turns his head. A belt drags on the pillow beside him, sliced through, probably with a claw. "Sure," he whispers.

* * *

Stiles opens a drawer and pulls out a rope. He wraps it around his hand, shudders as it slithers across his skin.

It worked before, came loose when it was supposed to. It'll stop the itch beneath his skin that jerking off alone doesn't ease.

He tries not to think about the belt, tight like a hand around his throat the moment before he slipped, when he was coming harder than ever before.

"Do you trust me, Stiles?"

Stiles jumps. Ropes and scarves and old magazines spill out over the floor. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Keeping you alive," Derek says, crouching beside the tangle. He takes the rope, pulls it through a fist. "Do you trust me?"

"No. You're a creeper who hides in bedrooms."

"And you strangle yourself to get off." Derek lets the rope drop. "Does it have to be a rope?"

Stiles stares at Derek's hands. He imagines those fingers wrapped around his throat, pressing against his windpipe, cutting off his air. He swallows hard as his cock stiffens. "No," he chokes.

"Do you trust me?" Derek repeats.

Stiles looks up. Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, he nods.

* * *

Stiles' hands twist in the sheet as Derek's fingers compress his windpipe. He hasn't touched his cock, doesn't need to. Precome wicks through the front of his pants, his balls are drawn up tight and if he moves he'll come untouched.

Derek kneels behind him. He clears his throat, a mix of impatience and discomfort.

Pulse pounding in his temples, Stiles shoves his hand into his pants. Two strokes and he's coming, thrashing and crying out as he soaks the fabric through.

* * *

A week later, Derek's hard against Stiles' lower back. Stiles rasps for air, jerks his cock. When he comes, there's a whispered curse in his ear, heavy breath on his skin. When Derek leaves, his skin is flushed and he won't meet Stiles' eyes.

* * *

"I want to lie down," Stiles whispers.

Derek swallows. Moments pass. "Okay," he says.

Derek straddles Stiles' thighs, stares at his hand wrapped around Stiles' throat. "This okay?" he breathes.

Stiles nods. He opens his jeans, lets his hand rest on his bare belly. His eyes roll back in his head as Derek slowly increases the pressure on his throat and his cock starts to strain against his briefs.

"Your _scent_ ," Derek says.

"Wha—?"

Derek's pupils are blown wide. "So good. The way you look. The noises you make." His eyes move down Stiles' body. "The sound of your heartbeat." His eyes flick back up. "Show me."

Stiles rasps as he tries to breathe. He pulls out his cock, strokes slow, almost comes when he sees how hard Derek is, how the front of his jeans strain against thick length.

When their eyes meet, Stiles can't look away. He jerks his cock and gasps. His face heats, skin pounding with each beat of his heart.

Derek's grip tightens. "Beautiful," he whispers, shifting to grind his cock against Stiles' thigh.

Stiles breathes in tiny gasps. His back arches off the bed as his orgasm builds. His skin tingles, the sensation growing until it feels as if every part of him is burning, until every muscle, every fiber is tight enough to snap.

"Come on, Stiles," Derek hisses. "Show me, come for me."

Stiles' cells spark into flame. A rush of heat spills over his hand, onto his stomach in an unending release.

* * *

There's a warm hand on the back of Stiles' neck, wet kisses on his bared throat. He exhales a soft moan and twists his fingers into the front of Derek's shirt to pull him up.

"So good." Derek licks into Stiles' mouth and takes his breath away again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed reading, please hit the [Kudos ♥] button.
> 
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/vampthenewblack/) | [dreamwidth](http://vampthenewblack.dreamwidth.org)  
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